The Reality Game
by Mashlie Needs Some Benadryl
Summary: PotterWhoLock: Eleven year old Amy Pond didn't imagine she would find a blue time machine when she snuck off the campus of Hogwarts or get sucked into an adventure of a lifetime. She hadn't the slightest notion a chunk of her life had been torn away from her, or that someone or something was was just playing a game with her ... and all of reality! (Not an AU!)
1. The Sorting Hat

Amelia Pond stood at the edge of the lake looking down at the wooden rowboat filled with her soon-to-be classmates. The dark night was only lit by flickering torches, and shadows bounced off every corner.  
"Get in the boat, missy." the abnormally large, black bearded man said. His voice was gruff and intimidating, but his eyes were kind and gentle.  
Amelia didn't know what to make of him so she reverted to sassiness, "Don't tell me what to do." she huffed, stomping her way into the boat and threatening to tip it.  
"He wasn't trying to be rude." said the boy sitting next to her. Amelia looked at him and he cowered slightly.  
"Whatever." she said. When she looked at the boy more closely, he seemed vaguely familiar. He had ruffled, brownish hair and deep set eyes. Maybe he sat in her car on the train? The boy gave her a sense of déjà vu. They fell silent, but he kept glancing at her. "What're you looking at?" she snarled.  
She felt rather bad being so rude to everyone, but her situation made her very uncomfortable, too many new faces and places, and definitely too many new concepts. Never, in her wildest dreams, had she imagined a place such as this, full of magic and mystery.  
Hogwarts Castle loomed over them, as the boat glided forward of its own accord. The boat halted on a swampy landing. The children climbed out immediately, anxious to see the interior of their new home. "Slow down there, children!" the man from the boat yelled after them. Amelia was still standing in the boat, along with the strangely familiar boy.  
"What's your name then?" Amelia asked the odd boy.  
"Rory. And yours?" He said, holding out a hand awkwardly.  
"Amelia." She replied, taking the boy's hand.  
The tall man looked at them. "Coming, Ponds?" He asked, preparing to pull the boat to shore.  
"What?" Amelia asked him, while she climbed out of the boat with Rory. She could've sworn he had said her last name plural. There was only one of her, wasn't there?  
The tall man shook his head, looking a bit dazed. "Hmm?" He looked at her questioningly, as if not knowing what he just said.  
"Nevermind." Amelia shook her own head, clearing her mind. There seemed to be an awful lot of strange people at this school so far. She looked back towards the castle, following Rory through the great, oak doors. The spacious hallway with a vaulted ceiling was filled with golden light from the magically lit torches. It was a big change from the slightly creepy lake and forest outside.  
She saw a large group of kids about her age, and assumed they must be first years like herself. She joined the crowd and waited to be told what to do. It didn't take long. A man in a black robe strode to the front of the group. Amelia figured he must be a teacher. He wasn't very tall and had slightly greying hair, but he seemed to have the air of authority that was expected from teachers.  
"Hello, First Years! Welcome to Hogwarts!" he greeted them from the top of the stairs. "My name is Professor Watson and I am the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher here. Before we can enjoy the feast prepared for you tonight, you will be sorted into one of four houses, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, or Hufflepuff. Your house will be your home and family for the rest of your seven years at the school. Each house has its own standards and history, and we will try to put you where you will go far. Here at Hogwarts, all the students participate in our House Cup. Throughout the year, teachers can award and take away points. Whichever house has the most points at the end of the year, will earn the House Cup. Now, if we can stay as orderly as possible until your name is called for the sorting hat, that would be great. Once the hat has assessed your strengths and weaknesses it will call out your house and you will go sit at said table. Everybody clear?" He asked.  
After a general nod of heads and whispered 'I know what house I'm gonna be in's, the Professor led them through the giant doors he had stood in front of. The next room had an even more jovial atmosphere, as it was filled to the brim with excitedly chattering students. Candles floated overhead, and the ceiling was enchanted to look just like the sky outside. The first years all goggled at the magical room. When the group came in, a few of the older students pointed and laughed, but not mockingly with the exception of one table, which Amelia assumed was Slytherin. Even in her fairly magicless life, she knew that she would prefer to be in the other houses rather than Slytherin.  
They were led up to the front of the hall, stopping in front of the teachers' table. The sorting hat sat upon a stool. The professor who had led them in stood next to it.  
"Welcome, first years, and welcome back, the rest of you. My name is Professor McGonagall. We are excited to be starting this new year, and we hope it just as exciting for you. First years, the Forbidden Forest is, well, forbidden," the headmistress began. She went on with the rules and regulations for first years, introduced the new and old teachers, and then continued to the sorting hat.

To Amelia's surprise, the hat began to sing. She tried to pay attention, but the lyrics were something boring about the school and its history.

Instead, Amelia looked around the room, trying to get a grasp on her surroundings. She focused on the teachers' table, where an assorted group of black robed professors sat, obviously all anxious to get this over with. Amelia noticed one strange man with curly, dark hair, sitting slightly aloof from the others, glancing quickly around the room. He seemed to be taking everything in, until his eyes hovered over one spot. Following his line of vision, Amelia found he was looking the teacher who had led them into the hall. _What had his name been?_, she thought. _Professor Wayward?_

But 'Professor Wayward' wasn't paying attention at all, he was staring confusedly at a boy in the first year group. The boy had black, ruffled hair and bright blue eyes. He was standing outside of the main group, obviously distressed by the crowd. Amelia was about to walk over and talk to him, but the hat stopped singing and she knew her name would be called soon. Besides, she probably shouldn't get involved with creepy men's staring contests on her first day at Hogwarts.

"I will now call out your names, you will come up, and then I will place the sorting hat on your head. Gregory Lestrade!" 'Wayward' started, reading the name from a long scroll. A scrawny boy stepped up to the hat, Amelia assumed he must be Gregory. When put on his head, the sorting hat started to mutter something about courage, intelligence, ambition, and loyalty.

Then it screamed out loudly, "Hufflepuff!" Amelia was surprised by how human it sounded, but a lot of things had surprised her since she joined the wizarding world. A few more names were called out.

"Amelia Pond!" the hat shouted. She felt butterflies in her stomach. It was a mix of excitement and nervousness. She was extremely excited to find out her house, but at the same time she wasn't too eager to have that scary, living hat thing go on her head. It looked too big anyway.  
Despite her unease, Amelia hopped up the steps with her head held high. She plopped onto the stool when the Professor picked the hat up. She felt the hat envelop her head, and the muttering she heard with Gregory filled her ears.

"Amelia Pond, clever girl are ye. Slytherin might be a good choice for you. But there is some courage inside." It whispered.

"Not Slytherin, you- you- hat!" She bit her lip, realizing how bad of a comeback that was.

"All right," The sorting hat muttered with finality. It then screamed, "Gryffindor!"

The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers. Amelia smiled, and set the hat back on the stool, half running to her new house. Gryffindor was known for accepting the brave, and she was proud that the hat had thought of her that way.

* * *

Rory Williams anxiously stood in line with the rest of the first years. The ginger girl from the boat sprinted over to the Gryffindor table, a grin of relief spread across her face. The house's older students welcomed her warmly, patting her on the back and offering her their friendship.

Rory found himself smiling too. He was happy for her, especially since he thought he heard the hat considering Slytherin. She was interesting, the Amy girl. He felt like he should know her really well, but she didn't know him. The problem was that neither of them had ever met before Hogwarts, and they would probably never be friends, since there was no way he would get in Gryffindor. First years kept getting called up to the sorting hat, and Rory waited as patiently as possible. The enchanted candles and ceiling had even gotten boring when he looked back at Amy. She was frowning deeply at the boy who had just been called. Rory hadn't been paying much attention to Professor Watson, but he was pretty sure the boy's name was Hamish.

Amy's eyes flashed from Hamish to a professor sitting at the end of the teachers table and then back to Professor Watson. Rory looked at the strange dark haired teacher with an angular face.

"Ravenclaw!" the hat's voice burst throught the man's eyes were locked on Watson, and his lips had curled up in what appeared to be his version of a smile. Professor Watson seemed to be smiling at him too. _Creeeeeeeepy_, Rory thought. Watson then called out Rory's name, breaking his gaze with the other man and making Rory jump a little.

Rory slowly made his way up to Professor Watson. Of all the things Rory wanted on his head, the sorting hat was not one. When Rory down on the stool, Watson put the hat on his head.

"Eh." the hat said, dissmissively. Rory tried to look at it as it sat upon his head, but he ended up just ended up making a scrunched up, confused face. In the midst of his confusion, the hat yelled "Hufflepuff!" Rory yelped at the tremendous noise, but it was drowned out by cheers from the table lined with gold. Rory could've sworn that the hat said more to the others, but he shrugged it off and raced towards his house table.

Gregory Lestrade, the only other first year boy who had been picked for Hufflepuff so far, patted the spot next to him. "Over here, Rory!" he said. Rory took the seat gladly, Gregory seemed like a nice boy.

He glanced over at Amy at the Gryffindor table, and saw how happy she was. He knew she wasn't happy for _him_, but it didn't matter. He was content to be in Hufflepuff, the children seemed kind. They were known for being loyal friends, and he was happy that the hat picked him for this without question.

Professor Watson finished with the rest of the first years, sending the last student, something Anderson, walking up to the Slytherin table, smirking. He then stepped up to the podium with a giant gold owl on the front and proceeded with introducing the headmistress, Professor McGonogal. She began a speech introducing Rory and the other first years to the school and then went on to talk about topics that Rory didn't understand, being a first year.

"Now, you may feast!" McGonogal said, finishing her speech.

A plate overflowing with delicacies appeared in front of Rory. Greg, as he had told Rory to call him, stuffed his face with as much food as he could. Rory gladly did the same, although a bit more elegantly. When everyone had polished off the dessert platters, most of the students got up and wandered around the hall, talking to their friends.

Rory surveyed the area, looking for Amy's bright ginger hair. He found her in the corner, talking to the strange black haired boy, Hamish. Rory went over to her. He wanted to redeem himself from the boat ride. He mustered up the courage to walk over and quietly said, "Hi."

Amy looked at him. Her eyes softened. Rory thought he saw a gleam of affection in her eyes, but then dismissed the thought, knowing it was probably just his imagination. "Hey. Rory, right?" she asked.

Rory nodded bit too vigorously. He was excited. Maybe they could become friends or something. The Hamish boy studied hm carefully. Rory was about to ask for a proper introduction, when four different voices rang out through the Great Hall. Rory turned and noticed the Hufflepuff prefect herding the Hufflepuffs back towards the house common room. Rory sighed. His one chance to talk to Amy and the prefect ruins it.

"Um, I should probably, er, be going now, but see you guys around." Rory said as he reluctantly started to walk away.

"Uh, okay. See you around!" Amy said sounding rather reluctant as well.

Rory heard Amy bid Hamish goodbye too and rush back to the Gryffindors. Rory followed the other first year Hufflepuffs out of the Great Hall. He was suddenly aware of how tired he was after the long day. He allowed himself to be led through the stone hallways of Hogwarts and barely acknowledging the way to get into the common room. The second he reached his new room he collapsed on the four post bed. Rory hoped tomorrow would be better.


	2. New Friends, New Enemies

_ "And do you, Rory Williams, take Amelia Pond to be your lawfully wedded wife?"_

_ "I do." said a man who looked like Rory, but he was definitely much older, probably in his twenties. "And do you, Amelia Pond, take Rory Williams to be your lawfully wedded husband?" Excitement flared inside of Amy. She was holding hands with the man who looked like Rory, smiling uncontrollably. This was the big moment. "I do." she said. "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." _

Amelia shot up out of bed. What was that? Was she having a dream about marrying Rory? But she had just met him, he wasn't even that attractive! And yet the dream had felt so real, and she had been so happy to marry him.

Amelia put her suspicious thoughts to rest. It was just a dream, wasn't it? Oh well, she might as well forget about it, she thought as her eyelids began to get heavy.

_ "Something old, something new, something borrowed," Amy paused. The room was vibrating, and wind blew from an unknown source. "Something blue." _

_ The rest of the wedding party looked around confusedly. Amy and Rory knew what it was though, they knew who it was. _

_ "It's the Doctor!" Rory exclaimed, sounding rather confused himself._

Amelia awoke for the second time that morning. Another dream about Rory? She hopped out of bed to get ready for the day. She tried to dismiss the dreams, but her suspicion kept rising. Was something was going on at Hogwarts? Someone casting a spell on her? Amelia hoped she would get a better sleep tonight.

.:~*~:.

_ A_melia scanned her new schedule as she finished up breakfast. The Great Hall was emptying out, and she had yet to see Hamish or Rory. Amelia had wanted to compare classes with them and see what subjects they had together. Behind her excitement, she knew she was pretty nervous about the new school._  
_

Hamish ran into the Hall. He looked pretty out of breath when he ran over to his place at the Ravenclaw table. He sat down for about half a second, just enough time to grab a muffin, and then he sprung back up to walk over to Amelia. In between bites of blueberry muffin, Hamish explained to her, "Sorry, I- came late. I slept- in. What's your first- class?"  
"Herbology." she drawled, as Hamish took the empty seat next to her. The class didn't sound very exciting or magical, but that didn't seem to have an effect on her friend.

"Hey, me too!" Hamish shouted. Muffin crumbs sprayed all over Amelia's new, clean uniform.

"Hamish, watch it!" she exclaimed in disgust. "Didn't your parents teach you any manners?"

Hamish's expression transformed from happy and healthy to emotionally hurt and uncared for. He looked on the verge of tears. Amelia didn't want to lose her new friend.

"I'm sorry." she said quietly.

"No, it's okay. You didn't know. I actually grew up in an orphanage, Professor McGonogal brought me about Hogwarts. When I was there, all the older boys made fun of me, because I was too smart. I only have one friend, but he was adopted two years ago. When you're scrambling to get food, there isn't much time for manners. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." Hamish got up to leave.

Amelia grabbed the sleeve of his robe and forced him back into his seat.

"Don't you dare leave. And you don't have one friend. You have me." she comforted as best she could.

"And me!" Rory had snuck up behind them and sat next to Hamish.

His new friend, Gregory, sat next to him.

"I can be your friend, too, if you like." he said.

Hamish's almost tears turned into ones of joy. He had gone from feeling like the loneliest kid in the world to being part of a family in a matter of days. He silently thanked the Headmistress for finding him and bringing him to a place that really did feel like a home.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't introduce you. Hamish, Amy, this is Greg. He's in Hufflepuff too." Rory said.

"Don't call me Amy." Amelia corrected. Secretly, she liked the name, but it didn't feel right to have Rory, a boy she had met just yesterday, to change what people called her.

"Sorry. What class do you have now?" Rory asked her.

"Herbology." Hamish clarified for her.

"Oh, we have Defense Against the Dark Arts. Did you hear the Slytherin first year group was too big so they had to split them up? Half are going to our class and half are going to yours." Greg informed them.

"Hmm, interesting. Well," Amelia checked her watch and stood up, "We all best be going. Come on, Hamish."

Hamish glanced one last time at Rory and Greg, and their returned looks showed their sympathy.

"Thanks, guys." he murmured as he left. The duo hurried through the wooden doors.  
Amelia and Hamish dodged the other students in the crowded hall as they headed for their class. Amelia squeezed past two kids, before locating a door labeled First Years Herbology and stepping through. They found themselves outside, and, not knowing where to turn, they followed other students towards another door that led inside another building. She didn't expect it, not getting a very good look at the outside of the building, but the Herbology classroom was more of a greenhouse. The ceiling and three of the walls were built from glass which was so dirty, Amelia couldn't see anything through it. She began to doubt it was ever transparent. The fourth wall was a mesh of thick tangled roots and leaves. Amelia absentmindedly wandered over to it and examined it carefully. The leaves were much bigger than anything she would see at home, and they were glossy and-

Amelia was jerked back to reality when a women appeared behind her, saying, "Everyone get their aprons on!" The plump women was a few inches taller than Amelia and wore a tan robe.

Amelia followed Hamish and the other students over to a closet where they took out aprons. The aprons were a dull beige and it made all the students look the same despite their house. As Amelia reached for one of the robes, another hand beat her to it. It was a Slytherin boy, indicated by his green tie. He had a thin face and dark hair and eyes. He was pale and a nose that was too pointy. He rolled his eyes at her and made his way to the long table in the centre of the room along which student lined up on either side. Amelia shot the boy a glare and got another apron.

When all the students had lined up along the table, the women who had spoke before said, "Hello, first years and welcome to Herbology. My name is Professor Sprout." She then went on into the different things they would be covering and why herbology is important.

Amelia couldn't pay attention, though. That boy was standing across the table from her. He was smiling at her, giving her a face that said, 'I'm so much better than you.' Amelia clenched his fists and gritted her teeth. This boy was going to learn a thing or two from her.

Amelia leaned over to Hamish who was standing next to her. His attention was divided between Professor Sprout and the stare down between Amelia and the other boy. However, he was probably absorbing a whole lot more of the lesson than Amelia. "What's his name?" she growled to him, not breaking eye contact with the boy.

"I think it's Anderson." Hamish whispered, but then he turned his full attention to the Professor. Amelia took this as a sign to listen as well, so she unwillingly gave up on Anderson. Without looking at him, she knew he was smirking.

"My, my, this is a large class. We are going to have to be in groups of twos or threes for this assignment. Over the next month or so, I want each group to plant and care for a different type of seed. I won't tell you what it is when I give it to you, you will have to figure it out through observation. We will compare our findings at the end of the project." Professor Sprout announced.

"Now, everyone, I will assign your groups. Holmes, Pond, and Anderson you're a group. Donovan, Tyler, and Jones you three are together." Amelia didn't listen to the rest of the groups.

Anderson didn't hide his disappointment as well as Hamish and Amelia did.

"I can't work with these- with these kids!" he spluttered to the Professor.

"I assure you Mr. Anderson that those students are exactly the same age as you, and that they will work very hard on this project." she replied calmly.

Anderson's eyes narrowed for a moment, as if he didn't understand part of that comment. He scanned the whole group of students, and, coming to some sort of conclusion, he sighed and let the issue drop.

Amelia couldn't help but notice a pattern of strangeness happening in her presence. She hoped everything about this school would explain itself in time.

.:~*~:.

Hamish and Amy sat next to each other in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Amy would gladly go to this class over a muggle school subject any day, but Professor Watson's lecture was boring her out of her mind. At the moment, he was describing how important it was to be careful and take every precaution in class. _Hamish is probably enjoying this class. He seems to love any and all subjects,_ Amy observed. She glanced over at Hamish to see if her assumption was correct. However, she thought she saw a tear roll down his cheek when she looked at him. She did a double take. There he was, chin propped up on his elbow, posture as normal as ever, but tears streamed down his cheeks and there was a gloom about him. His eyes seemed darker. The same loneliness that she had seen in him at breakfast. "Hamish," she whispered softly. "What's wrong?"

Hamish snapped back to reality. The darkness in his eyes retreated and he seemed as normal as ever. He straightened and turned to his friend, "Sorry?"

"Hamish, you're crying."

Hamish's fingers wandered up to his wet cheek. "Oh," he said. "I- I didn't realize- I-"

"Is everything alright, Hamish?" Professor Watson said. He crouched down next to Hamish and smiled sympathetically. This was an affectionate side of Professor Watson that Hamish was only seeing for the first time, but felt vaguely familiar to him. "Do you need to step out?"

At the input of Professor Watson, more tears flowed freely from Hamish's eyes. He would've babbled, but Amy cut in, "I'll take him out, Professor."

She pulled Hamish out of his seat and into the hallway a little bit roughly. Watson frowned as they left, Amelia couldn't tell if it was in confusion, disapproval, or both. She led Hamish through the halls and finally reached the courtyard area, where the two sat on the ledge at the bottom of one of the archways. Hamish had stopped crying, but his eyes were still glassy and threatened to overflow at any sign of upset.

"Hamish, really, what's the matter? You can tell me." Amelia tried to get to the source of the problem.

"I don't know. I was listening to the Professor, and then his words made me feel so sad. I didn't even notice." Hamish replied confusedly.

"What could he have said? He was just talking about class safety." Amelia wondered aloud.

"I said, I don't know. It wasn't so much what he was saying as much as how he was saying it. His voice just made me-" Hamish released a sob he had been holding in.

Amelia patted him on the back as comfortingly as she could.

"I have never met him before, Amelia, but I know him. I know I know him. And I know Greg too, and Anderson. I feel like I've seen them every day of my life, but can't remember a thing about them." he blathered.

Amelia felt like she was putting together puzzle pieces in her head. First, it had been Hagrid-whose name she had only just found out-, then the strange stares of the teachers in the Great Hall, Rory calling her Amy, Anderson not acknowledging his youth, and now this. In the past day, she had seen several people doing things unconsciously in her presence, and she had a feeling that they were connected somehow. She was positive that Professor Watson and Hamish, around which most of the events had occurred, were part of this.

To someone else, she knew it would seem absurd, all she had seen were a few people getting a little flustered. But the nagging feeling in the back of her mind wouldn't cease. Something was wrong, and she was going to get to the bottom of it.

.:~*~:.

Professor Watson stepped into the new divination teacher's office. He had unfortunately been around the potions cupboard when some poor, first year girl had been sent down. She had said Professor Holmes needed several ingredients in the divination tower. The girl looked like she was about to expire from panting, so John couldn't help but take pity on her. The Professor had to go way out of his way to reach the tower, but he didn't mind the exercise.

"Hello?" he called, looking around the room for Holmes.

"Ah, just on time." Holmes said, suddenly peeking out of the closet. He checked his watch. "No, actually, a little late. In here." he remarked while disappearing back inside.

Watson sighed in exasperation and followed him in. He was surprised to find that there was a full size room, obviously enchanted to be that way, when he stepped through the doorway. Cauldrons, jars of animal and plant parts, and other assorted potions equipment was strewn across the entire area.

"So I guess you take your potions pretty seriously." Watson said.

"Mmm, yes. I originally wanted to apply for the position here, but when I saw it was filled, I took the next best thing." the other teacher said while turning up the heat on one of the pots.

"It was a tragedy, Professor Trelawney, I mean. But we all knew she was bound to crack at some point. I hope you won't find her position too challenging."

Holmes looked up from his work, frowning.

"If that lunatic can do it, I can. Besides, I'm always up for a challenge." he said. He walked up and snatched the bag of ingredients from the shorter man's hand, then returned to the cauldron.

"I never did ask your name, Professor Holmes." Watson inquired awkwardly.

"It's Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes." He stated simply.

Suddenly, Professor Watson was hit by hundreds of extremely vivid visions, so clear that he thought they must be memories, although not his own. There were so many images flashing so quickly though his mind that he only caught a few: Sherlock Holmes wearing a ridiculous, plaid hat,-a deerstalker, maybe?- Sherlock Holmes running through an alleyway, the grave of Sherlock Holmes, and, oddly, a skull sitting over a homey looking fireplace.

"What the-" John muttered, snapping back to reality.

Then he noticed Holmes standing right in from of him. A bit startled, Watson back up an inch.

"Are you all right, John?" Sherlock asked with sincerity. Watson meekly nodded his head, wondering at the same time how Holmes had moved so quickly from across the room and how the man had known his first name.

Watson walked shakily out the closet door, mumbling something like "Have a good night, Sherlock, see you soon." But he could feel Holmes' eyes trained on the back of his neck as he left the office, and by the time he reached the tower stairs, his pace had quickened to a jog.

.:~*~:.

Molly Hooper sat on the corner of the professors' table. She watched idly as students filtered into the hall for dinner. When her last class of the day had left, she had come to the hall early. Molly didn't really know why she had done this, especially since she sat alone at the table, but she was already there, there was no reason to leave.

Suddenly, Professor Watson burst through the doors of the hall, walking at a quick pace. Even from this distance, Molly could see beads of sweat forming on his face. Watson also glanced behind him several times, as if he expected soeone to be following him. He rushed up the steps and around the table, and he sat at the seat to her left.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"N-nothing," Watson stuttered quickly.

Molly tried to shake it off, but couldn't help but notice him cringe at the exact moment another professor entered the hall. She recognized him as Professor Holmes. He had caught her eye before, during the greeting meal. She remembered he and Watson sharing looks, but not letting it bother her.

Watson cleared his throat, obviously trying to regain his composure.

"So- so, how are you Molly?" he asked conversationally.

"I'm okay, but I'm not sure you could say the same for yourself." she answered.

"Is it really that bad?" He wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his robe.

"Hello." Holmes had reached the table and sat down next to Professor Watson. He glared upon their conversation with a look of distaste.

Molly found Professor Holmes very interesting. He seemed very unsociable, and he never seemed to focus on one thing, rather taking in his entire surroundings. He didn't share anything about himself with other teachers, preferring to stay in his study. Molly smiled. Although, Watson was the more sociable of the two, Watson's shortness was not very tasteful. Molly preferred men like Holmes: tall, dark, and mysterious. Overall she found the man fascinating.

Molly shook her head. What had just happened? Where was she getting all of this? She barely even knew either of these men, yet she was making judgements on who she liked better. She noticed that Watson was talking to her.

"-and next weekend a few of us are going over to the Three Broomsticks, and if you want you can come."

"Oh, yes!" she replied, less than enthusiastically.

"How come I wasn't invited?" Holmes inquired. Molly could tell that he was not genuinely interested in the outing, and instead he was trying to put Watson on the spot.

Watson swiveled around to face him. He opened his mouth to speak then closed it.

He tried again "Er,"

Molly felt obliged to help Watson, since he had been kind enough to invite her in the first place.

"Of course you can come. He was just about to ask you." She smiled at Holmes.

Watson shot her a venomous glare before he could stop himself. She was a bit surprised at his dislike of Holmes.

"Yes, _Holmes. _Feel free to join us." he said, still not looking at the other man.

Molly bit her lip, not wanting to mess anything else up.

The trio sat in awkward silence until Professor Sprout came into the hall. Watson, the personable one, sprung on the opportunity to talk to someone besides Holmes or Hooper. Molly stayed silent, although she couldn't help notice Holmes eyes being trained on Watson throughout the whole meal.


End file.
